Only Your Best Friend Can Say
by 2looney
Summary: Starts after Home with Finn and Puck becoming friends again. Spoilers for all of Season 1. Initially Quick/Finchel with eventual Puckleberry Fuinn
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I want to thank **GoingVintage** for the idea of Puck's Jeep. I like it so much better than a truck for him.

Many thanks for the encouragement from the aforementioned , **StarsAreAMetaphor** and **Miss Phenix**. Finally, a million thanks to my beta and TwitterTwin, **Sassy_26**. This little story is 10,000 times better because of your help!

* * *

What the fuck? Hummel is singing **at Finn**.

I repeat - What the fuck?

A chair is still a chair – oh, fuck no! That chair is the total embodiment (thanks Berry!) of Finn's dad……just like my guitar is for me, whatever. I look at Finn and mouth "Your Dad?" He looks lost and I'm so pissed that I screwed up our friendship before Mrs. H started dating. Her jumping back in the dating pool was going to suck if he didn't have someone (namely me) to talk to about it. Now he doesn't have me - or Q - or Berry to talk to and I need to man up _right fucking now_.

We haven't even grunted at each other since Sectionals, except at basketball practice and even then he just looks like he wants to kill me. But this whole 'Finn denying I exist' thing has to stop because if Mrs. H is thinking about even moving that damn chair, my bro is gonna lose his SHIT! So I wait for Hummel to finish and slip a note to Q asking her to hang at Britt's for a while – she nods to me and heads off giggling with Britt.

Quinn moved in but she can't be alone with my Mom – or MiniMom - which is Q's name for my sister, Sarah. Quinn and I are not together - she loves Finn and I love fucking, so we don't have any common interests…..except for the baby bump.

We're friends now – she's actually funny and a lot nicer now that she eats more than two celery sticks a day. But my mom and Sarah refuse to cut her a break – she's not Jewish and she screwed Finn over. They can't forgive either one - and the combination of the two is a deal breaker! They're both just as bitchy to me but I'm used to it and not hormonally-challenged like Quinn is.

I wait for Finn to finish up at his locker and start down the hall. As I look at the ground, I start, "Bro, we gotta get past this. We know each other better than anyone - including our moms. You can beat the shit out of me until I'm in the ICU but I think we need to get some beer and head out to the lake."

Finn just nods, closes his locker and follows me out to the Jeep.

* * *

I start up the Jeep and head toward 7-11. Finn is looking out the window and not saying anything. He hasn't jumped out of the car or cold cocked me yet which I take as progress and keep my mouth fucking shut.

I pull into the parking lot and Finn just nods. We decided a long time ago that his baby face does nothing but endanger my stellar fake ID. Finn always waits in the car – Mike does too. Matt can pull it off, only because he never opens his mouth but Finn and Mike look, act and sound like high school kids which makes it impossible to get any beer outta that old bat behind the counter – no matter how may times I wink at her.

I return to the Jeep with a 12 pack of Miller Genuine Draft and a bag of chips. Finn is twirling a pen in his hand. For a second I think maybe he looked up a way to kill a person with a ballpoint pen on the internet but then I realize that we're talking about Finn here. I jump in the Jeep as Finn grabs a can of beer, stabs the bottom of the can with the pen, pops the top and shotguns the beer.

"_Damn_, where did you learn to do that?" I ask.

"I've been to a lot of parties since Sectionals – especially once I found out you weren't going anymore." That stung – damn Hudson, didn't know you had it in you. It's clear we have a fucking long way to go.

"Oh," is all I manage to say.

He grabs a second beer and chugs about half of it down. I turn the key in the ignition and Finn wildly swings the door open saying "You can't drive with an open container!" He downs the rest of the second can.

I glance over at Finn with my eyebrow cocked (c'mon it's a gift). I joke, "Hey, hey, hey. Slow down there, Sparky! You're gonna hurt yourself."

Finn laughs and gets out of the car. I think I've screwed up but he left his backpack in the backseat and the door is still open. He trashes the empty cans and returns to the Jeep.

"Quinn doesn't need to bail her Baby Daddy out of jail tonight. Drive asshole!" he orders. I smile a little because he's finally starting to sound like Finn again. I have to say, him downing those two beers was nearly badass. I was kinda impressed.

* * *

We jam to Pantera all the way to the lake.

It's like old times with Finn playing drums on the dash but the mood changes as soon as we get there and I park the Jeep. Finn hands me a beer, takes another for himself and looks out the window.

"You have to tell me what happened with Quinn," he starts at nearly a whisper. "I've thought a lot about this and we can't be friends again if I don't know. I just can't keep _imagining_ it, thinking about all the possibilities. I _need_ to know what happened."

This could go bad really fast but I kind of understand what he is saying. Finn doesn't know it was a one time thing, both of us so scared of losing him that we did the one thing that would push him away. He doesn't know we both regret it more than anything.

I stare out the windshield, not daring to look at the guy who had been my best friend since grade school.

Looking straight ahead, I quietly admit, "Finn, it was messed up. We both saw you with Rachel - saw you changing, becoming more than we were. It was the night before you blew off football practice for the thing at Carmel."

I sigh deeply and continue, "Quinn is the one that told me your mom couldn't have a prostate problem – and embarrassingly, _why_. She jumped to the conclusion you were cheating on her with Rachel. I knew you were lying to me and turning your back on the team. We got drunk in Brittany's basement and ended up together - it was only once, I swear. And as fucked up as this sounds, it was way more about you than either of us."

I took a deep breath and turned to look at him. He looked like he was going to kill me and started screaming, "That is complete bullshit Puck and you know it! I saw how you used to look at Quinn. Maybe you only _fucked_ her once, but you wanted her for a hell of a long time before that!"

Finn jumped out of the car and ran towards the lake. He threw his now empty beer can and slumped to the ground. I drank the rest of my beer, grabbed the remaining MGD and joined him sitting on the grassy slope about 10 feet from the water's edge.

I slumped to the and calmly explained, "I swear it is true, Finn. I was fucking Santana at the time and that means getting laid three times a day – its not like I was hard up. I knew what Quinn meant to you, probably still means to you. It was a fucking mistake. Neither of us meant it and we both regret it."

He asked the next logical question, "So why did you let me take the rap? You knew all along it was bullshit. How could you let me get sucked in like that?"

I was so far in at this point, I just kept going with the truth. As big a dumbass as Finn is sometimes, he usually knows when I am bullshitting him. "She told me I was a Lima Loser and you weren't. She _chose_ you and I figured: I got her into this mess so the least I could do was keep my mouth shut. Man, I am sorry. I hate what I did to her, and to you. But we gotta get past this and if I don't stop talking feelings pretty soon, I'll have to get fitted for a fucking Cheerios skirt."

Finn starts laughing so hard, it cracks me up a little – I wasn't that funny. He flips back on the ground and cracks his head on a rock. I still don't understand how he has no coordination and ends up with all the leads in Glee AND is team captain of three major sports teams. The dude is a klutzy, gangly giant.

Finn grabs the offending rock, walks over and tosses it into the lake and continues to laugh like his life depends on it. I'm glad he's laughing – I join him at the shore and hand him another beer, which he immediately cracks open.

I glance sideways at him and say, "OK lightweight, this has been a riot but if you've forgiven me I want you to remember it tomorrow, so I'm cutting you off. Plus I still have to get back in your mom's good graces and dropping your sorry ass off wasted isn't gonna help with that."

Mrs. H has always been a second mom to me especially when my Mom gets really depressed or angry. I still stay at Finn's sometimes when Mama Puck goes to her dark place.

I look over and see one of those goofy grins he wears all the time. Or at least all the time before he found out that I'd knocked up his girlfriend. "You're right – last one. We can finish the rest on Friday after the game. You and me," he motions back and forth with his left hand, "We're good. Now, where are the chips?"

I nod toward the Jeep and we both head that direction.

* * *

Sitting in the grass by the Jeep, we consume the bag of chips in about two minutes flat. I take the last sip from my beer. Since there has not been enough _sharing_ for one day (what – he has been my bro since second grade, whatever) I ask, "I heard you went out with Santana - how is crazy train?"

Finn looks into his lap and whispers, "Dude, I fucked her."

I rolled my eyes and kept a straight face _somehow_ as I respond, "Yeah, I figured. How'd it go?"

Finn looks guilty and shifts his gaze away from me. "She is really hot and knew what she was doing but it kinda sucked because I don't even like her - its not who I wanted it to be. I told Rachel I took a pass with Santana– but I didn't - I just wish that I had."

He sipped his beer and continued, "I can't believe I fucked Santana last Friday." I grab another beer and take a sip contemplating a response but Finn keeps talking – it's like Taxi Cab Mother Fucking Confessions, "and you know Berry gave it up to Jesse that night too."

Beer is now squirting out of my nose (this is NOT badass) and I am literally choking. When I finish coughing, I see Finn looking at me like I kicked a puppy. "Listen Finn, I have V-Card Radar. It's a **gift from God**. There is no way that happened. If Berry was open for business, I would know. She's lying to you, just like you lied to her about Santana."

Finn looks even more confused than he normally does and mutters, "Changed my mind - I need one more beer." I hand it to him. "Are you sure about Rachel?" he asks.

"As sure as I am that you're on your fifth beer – there's still a cherry inside of Berry." Finn takes another drink and we both look at the sun setting over the lake.

I hear my phone buzzing on the dash and it's a text from Q asking when I'm gonna pick her up from Britt's. I text back that I'll be there by eight.

There's one more thing to discuss before we head back. As we get back in the Jeep, I dive straight in, "This all started because Hummel was serenading you today." Finn punches me in the arm, _hard_-for him anyway. I act like it hurts so he doesn't pout like a girl.

I ask, "Was all that about your Dad's chair?"

He sounds a little broken as he responds, "Yeah. My mom sold and gave away a bunch of furniture and she tried to sell Dad's chair. We got in a big fight and she told me that she thought we were _managing_ as a family – that I don't know what its like to have a real family. She also told me she was falling in love with Kurt's dad. I didn't even know they were dating – I guess Kurt set them up."

I was dying to know so I ask, "So, what is Hummel Senior like?"

Finn shrugs, "I don't know. We're supposed to go to dinner tomorrow night but I don't like her replacing my Dad with him – or anyone."

I need to say what only his best friend can say. I cautiously start, "I know our friendship is still on thin ice here but I think you should give him a chance, man. Your mom deserves to be happy. Even if it means you need to bunk with Kurt."

Finn squeals, "Ewwwwww….." and this time when he punches me it really does hurt. I'm proud of him.

Rubbing my arm, I grin and continue, "Dude, I'm serious about this. Your mom deserves to be happy. You're going to leave in a couple of years. What kind of man do you want for her? You don't want her to be alone when you leave - do you?"

With a guilty look on his face, Finn turns to look out the window and asks, "Don't you need to pick up Quinn?"

He grabs the nearly empty chip bag from the floor of the Jeep and empties the crumbs straight into his mouth.

I start the Jeep and we head silently back into town.

* * *

As I pull into Finn's driveway, I ask "Are you sure we're square?"

"Yeah," Finn replies, "Just stay away from Rachel."

What the fuck was that? I try not to sound pissed as I say, "OK – I've got enough crazy in my life and she is dating TheaterDouche , so why would you say that?"

Finn replied in a pretty impressive _don't fuck with me_ voice, "I already have to fight Jesse for her – I can't take another round with you. I know you dated her, you know she can kiss and we _both_ know she's hot. Just promise you'll stay away from Rachel."

I respond calmly, "No problem man. Crazy Berry is all yours – I'll even help you kick Jesse's ass if you need me to."

As I was driving to Britt's to pick up Q, I had a nagging feeling that keeping that promise was going to be harder than I thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews and alerts! I really appreciate the feedback and support. And all my TwitterBuddies, thanks for the encouragement and support especially Sassy_26 who makes me laugh til I cry nearly every day!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the brilliance that is Glee. If I did, Funk would have aired before Theatricality and the words "Mr. Salling - you are needed in wardrobe," would be COMPLETELY unnecessary.

* * *

I cannot believe how stupid I was trying to get Quinn to name our daughter after whiskey. I just wanted her to know that I love that baby - as much as, _**no more than**_, I love JD - even though she wants to give it away. I was listening to Kiss - Greatest Hits for our Glee assignment and it hits me – Beth. Not only is the song kick ass but Beth is a good Christian and Jewish name. As soon as I start singing, I know Quinn agrees.

I've seen lotsa of tears from Quinn Fabray since Sectionals – seriously wished that Ma had stocked up on generic tissues to save some cash – that girl goes through a box every other day. But Quinn has never looked at me like this. I really like these tears – there is a glimmer in her eye like Rachel used to get. Like I'm not the loser she said I was. When I finish the song and she agrees to let me meet my daughter, I know I have one thing left to do.

Most of Quinn's tears seem to center around her parents - she misses them. Quinn _**never**_ talks about it but she cries when there is a family moment on TV – even hokey ones in sitcoms. And she glances longingly at Ma and Sarah when they are baking or fighting – even when Ma is braiding Sarah's hair.

We walk to Quinn's locker together and she is still crying. Looking at the ground, I mumble "Thanks, I really want to meet her. I know I have a lot to make up for – so thanks!"

Quinn sniffles and smacks my arm. Her eyes lock with mine and she smiles, "You were always gonna be there _**idiot**_. I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to scream curse words at you and I'm pretty sure the sights and sounds of the delivery will keep Puckzilla from creating any more babies anytime soon. It is my job to save the girls of Northwest Ohio from your 'Trust me' and wine coolers combo pack."

My jaw drops a little but I regain my composure and change the fucking subject. "I have a quick errand to run. Mom is working for another hour or so and Sarah is at my Aunt's place. Is it OK if Britt drives you home?"

Quinn replies, "Sure. Just make sure that you are home by the time your mom gets there so she doesn't try and convert me again!"

"You got it Q. Thanks again." I grin and walk out to my Jeep.

* * *

I arrive at the Fabrays' and realize their front porch is the size of our whole first floor. I take a deep breath and knock on the door.

Mrs. Fabray answers the door with a fake smile plastered on her face and a death grip around a crystal glass filled with scotch on the rocks. I shuffle my feet for a second and jump in… "Hello Mrs. Fabray. I'm Noah Puckerman the father of Quinn's baby. I'd like to talk to you and your husband. May I come in?"

Mrs. F drops her drink on the patterned concrete covering the porch. Crystal that cost as much Ma makes in a month shatters across the threshold and scotch flies everywhere. She is clearly in shock and motions for me to come in but she has this blank stare on her face. After about 15 seconds she is clearly still shocked. She asks in a shaky voice, "Is everything OK with Quinn. Is she healthy? How is the baby?"

"Ma'am she is fine and the baby is fine. She misses you. I'd really like to talk to you and Mr. Fabray about it."

Mrs. Fabray stares off toward the window. I see that she is looking at a picture of Quinn from a few years ago. She seems to be wishing herself back into that picture. Finally, still staring holes through that damn picture she responds "Of course." She calls out "Russell, we have a visitor."

As Russell Fabray turns the corner, I immediately recognize him from _**The Sassy Brassy**_, a gentlemen's club just outside of town. What? That fake ID is golden and it's not just for getting beer at the 7-11. Russ (no longer deserves the Mr. Fabray in my book) is always getting lap dances from the nastiest dancer in the place – a 6 foot tall mess of tattoos and piercings. My blood starts to boil at this hypocrite because this is not just a dance club – he goes to the back room for "additional services" – the Puckarone never needs to obviously – but I know what goes on back there. A couple of the bouncers are in my fight club and I've helped them out of a mess or two when bachelor parties or frat boys get out of hand.

This asshole has a hot, albeit drunken, wife and threw his daughter out of the fucking house for breaking a moral code he can't even come close to upholding. I decide that no matter what he says or does – I am more of a man than he will ever be….no time like the present to get this party started.

"Mr. Fabray, I'm Noah Puckerman, the father of Quinn's baby."

Russ gets a little red in the face, "What? I thought that Finn Hudson was the father."

I look at the ground because I was really hoping that wouldn't come up – here goes nothing. "Quinn and Finn never had sex, Mr. Fabray. I am the only person that can be the father." I wait for the news to settle in a little.

I continue slowly and decide to stare a hole in the curtains on the other side of the living room. Eye contact seems like a bad idea right now and I am just going to spit all this out. "Since Finn found out, Quinn has been living with me. I would really like you to support Quinn when she gives birth in about 6 weeks. She is doing the right thing by having this baby and giving it up for adoption. She misses you, she is sad _**all the time**_, she needs her parents."

That is when the dickhead makes a colossal mistake. He slams me against the wall. He grits his teeth and his horrible, alcoholic breath is making me sick to my stomach. That stench reminds me of my dad and just makes me more determined to take this fucker down. He screams, "How dare you! Not only did you defile my daughter. You come to my home uninvited and try and to tell me how to be a good father. What would you know? Your father left and you are a punk. You stole my daughter … she is dead to me."

Mrs. Fabray gasps and begins crying. This breaks the dickhead out of his angry trance and he finally releases me from the wall and takes several steps back. It is all I can do not to deck him – but I think about Q, take a deep breath and turn toward her mother.

"Mrs. Fabray, I hope you don't see things the same way. The sad look in your eyes right now, I see Quinn with that expression when she thinks I am not looking. Pieces of her heart are missing right now – but you would be proud of her. Even with how much she is hurting, she is still very caring towards our friends. Especially Mercedes, Dr. Jones' daughter." Mrs. Fabray finally makes eye contact with me again so I think I am on the right track.

I continue, staring compassionately into Mrs. Fabray's eyes. "She can be a true friend. She knows how freakin' hurt I am about losing Finn as my best friend. She supports me and helps me with my sister – who is hell on wheels by the way. She is a good person – I know she gets that from you. But her fear, she gets that from you too - the fear of not being perfect – of making a mistake. And I know she made a big one….I hope you can forgive her before she gives your granddaughter away. You should meet the baby – we're calling her Beth. My mom and sister will be there - I think you should be too."

I turn to Mr. Fabray and look straight into his eyes with the contempt he deserves. "Sir, I assure you that you are very much alive in her as well. I suspect her drive and work ethic come from you as well as her determination to hold her head high against all odds. I am sure those attributes come from you."

I decide it is time for some gritted teeth of my own. "But you know what – you have also given her an iciness and bitchiness that is unfortunate. Whenever she pushes her friends away, makes fun of those who support her - I see that look you are giving me….its almost like the Quinn I know isn't in there anymore. I hope to hell that you don't come unless you can love her – with all her faults. She is not a princess or a damn doll on a shelf. You need to love all of her sir."

Russell is now beet red, fists clenched at his sides. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

I calmly respond, "I am one of the only friends she has had for the last three months since everyone found out that Finn wasn't the father. The only one to wipe her tears, take her to the doctor, buy her clothes, make her smile. I have been her family since you abandoned her."

Crunch! I hear my jaw crack under the Russ' fist.

"Russell, stop!" Mrs. Fabray screams.

Before I can react, a second shot lands on my nose. I catch the third punch midair, hold the dickhead's arm and push him backward. I rub my jaw and turn toward Quinn's mom. "Ma'am, I hope you will be there. Here is my cell phone number. If you text me your information, I will let you know how Quinn is doing." I leave the house rubbing my jaw.

_**OK asshole, it is on like Donkey Kong!**_

On the way home, I can feel the blood still dripping from my nose and a familiar coppery taste is filling my mouth. I call Chase, one of the bouncers from _**Sassy**_. I ask him if he remembers the favor he owes me from the last fight I helped break up. He does and I respond, "Good – I'll owe you one after this. Can I stop by before opening tomorrow?"

I pull in the driveway and notice that Ma is already home. I hope she hasn't driven Quinn to tears or homicide. I walk into the kitchen and grab some ice. I turn to head into laundry room for a rag and run into Ma. _**Shit!**_

My mother, Leah Puckerman, is one scary woman. Come to think of it, I know a lot of scary women – Ma, Sarah, Quinn, Rachel, Mercedes, Santana – damn that's a lot of badass women! Anyway, I always thought my grandparents were prophetic since her name means 'weary' in Hebrew. I know I am the cause of much of her pain - it still makes me sad to know how well this name suits her.

Ma starts to tear up, "Noah, we agreed no more fight club."

"Ma – look at my fists. I was not fighting, I was hit"

She motions toward the kitchen and we sit at the table. "What happened, Noah."

I look down at the table, "Ma, I got Quinn to agree to let me into the delivery room. I was so happy that - at least for a few minutes - I was going to be a family with Quinn and Beth. I decided to try and get the Fabrays to talk to Quinn and be there too. That didn't go so well. Quinn's dad is a mean drunk and that's why my face looks like this."

Ma is wiping tears from her eyes and asks, "Beth?"

"Yeah Ma – Beth."

She gives my shoulder a squeeze and kisses the top of my head. "Don't forget to ice, Noah. Good night."

"G'nite, Ma."

A tired and emotional Leah Puckerman passes a crying Quinn Fabray holding a basket of laundry on the stairs. Quinn looked at Leah and asks "Why did he do that for me?"

Leah responded, "That is how he treats family, Quinn."

* * *

Quinn comes into the kitchen shortly after Ma leaves. She looks like she has been crying again. That is not anything new – she probably just saw a greeting card commercial on TV. She sighs, "Thank God you're here. I was scared when your mom got home and you weren't back yet."

I switch the hands holding the ice pack – that shit gets cold quick. "Yeah sorry about that – Fight Club ya know."

Quinn replies with a gleam in her eye. "Who did you fight? He must have been fast because your hands look fine. Couldn't you even land a punch Puckerman?"

She continues into the laundry room. Shit – did she hear the whole conversation with Ma. _**Fuck!**_

I hear the washer start and Quinn returns to the kitchen and asks, "Have you eaten?"

I am flipping the fuck out because I have been feeding her for months now – whatever and whenever "the baby" had a craving - and she has never even offered a bite, let alone offered to make me a meal. Fuck – she heard the whole thing. Fuck!

I respond coolly, "Nah – not hungry."

Quinn grins at me, "Yeah, right. Let me make you a sandwich."

Baby Momma is at the counter making a big ass sandwich. Seriously, she put a hoagie bun in the toaster oven, grabbed lettuce, is slicing tomato and onion and warmed the roast beef in the microwave. This is gonna be one righteously awesome fucking sandwich.

She is looking out the window above the sink. I think she is checking out my reflection when she quietly starts, "Puck, I heard my last name when I was headed down the stairs with the laundry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I heard most of the conversation. Why did you do that – go to my parents' house?" She wipes her eyes and I'm pretty sure it's not from the onion.

Quinn carefully pulls bread from the toaster oven. "Would you like mayo or mustard on your sandwich?"

"Actually, just a little Italian dressing." What? It is unpredictable and spicy – just like the Puckinator. "Thanks."

She sits the sandwich down, grabs me a glass of milk and joins me at the table. "Puck, what did you do?" She caresses the bruise on my jaw.

I take a bite of the sandwich to avoid answering for a minute. Her hands on my face feel great. When I answer her I know she is going to start crying and I want to delay that for as long as I can.

"God, Quinn, this sandwich is fucking great! Will you make one for me everyday?" She smacks my arm playfully and folds her hands in her lap. I miss her touching my face – fuck, what was that thought all about? Damn.

"I know you miss your parents, Quinn. I was trying to help – and I might have with your Mom. Your Dad – not so much." I take a giant bite from the world's best sandwich and wink at her.

Quinn looked me straight in the eye, "Thank you. You really didn't need to do that – it's a futile effort. They can't handle anything that doesn't keep up appearances and," she pauses and motions at her belly, "I am not making a good impression right now."

I grin at her. "Q, I know it's not my business – but I don't think that's the case with your mom. I can tell she misses you. She kept staring at that picture of you in the living room, on the table by the leather chairs. I think she would've willed you into the room if she could have."

Quinn wipes a tear from her eye. I rinse my dishes and put them in the sink. I give her shoulders a squeeze as I walk by. I stand behind her and run my hand across her shoulder blades like I do for Sarah when she is upset. "I just needed to try. We're only gonna be a family for an hour or two when Beth comes. All the people important to us should be there."

Quinn turns around and is sobbing uncontrollably. I pull her into a big hug and kiss her on the top of the head. "Sorry babe. I didn't mean to make you cry. Thanks for the sandwich – it was fucking great, Q." I release my hold on her and she looks up and smiles through her tears.

She shocks the shit out of me and asks, "Wanna watch some TV?"

"Sure – I think the Indians are on."

"No thanks Puck I'd rather watch baseball." We both start laughing cuz the Tribe seriously sucks ass this year.

"You just love the tight pants they wear – ya little horndog. But your secret's safe with me." She smacks me on the arm again.

After an inning or two, I am nodding off and I hear the washing machine kick off. Quinn gets up and heads to the laundry room to move the clothes to the dryer. I start making up my bed on the couch. I have been sleeping there since Quinn moved in.

Before I get a chance to lie down, I feel Quinn lacing her slender fingers through mine. "Not tonight Puck, c'mon." She silently leads me up the stairs. My mind is racing – what the fuck! I know she is still hung up on Finn - what the hell is this? I am gonna see where this goes.

Where it goes…is my bedroom. Quinn puts her finger to her mouth and motions shh. I follow her. She locks the door behind us reaches around my neck and pulls me in for a soft kiss.

She breaks away and whispers, "Thank you. You didn't need to try and fix this for me….but I appreciate that you did."

She pulls me back in and deepens the kiss. I think why not try for a little tongue and it worked! Q responds and we are really making out, standing in my bedroom. She moans a little when I tug on her lower lip and I think – her tits have gotten huge, let's see how this goes. I brush my hand against the side of her right boob and she doesn't stop me. I take another pass across the front of her left breast and she leans in and moans. OK – its official – there are too many clothes on my Baby Momma.

She has on this blouse with ties on the front. I untie it and it falls open. I pull back and look Q in the eye. I need to know what she is thinking. It's like she knows what I am looking for.

"Puck – I need this. I need it to be about us having a night that is just about us. Are you OK with that?"

"Q, ohh yeah," I groan. "I am _**fine**_ with that." I am looking up and down from her eyes to her waist to our daughter inside her and I am about to erupt. _**Calm down Puckerman!**_

I push the blouse off her shoulders. She slips off her pants – maintaining constant eye contact. She unbuttons my shirt and starts kissing my neck, chest and shoulder and her hands are everywhere.

I need to be sure that she is still OK with this. "Q, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I am _**very**_ sure." She reaches down and unbuttons my jeans, sliding them down my legs and dragging her fingertips down the sides of my thighs. I step out of my jeans and Quinn is on her knees in front of me.

Had I known this would be the reaction I would have visited the Fabrays fucking ages ago. Quinn looks up at me with a tempting grin on her face. She slips her fingers into the waistband of my boxers and slides them down my legs. She licks my cock and wraps her hands around it pumping slowly. Then she takes me deep in her mouth a few times. She stops and when I look down the evil grin is back. She pushes me back down on the bed. I scoot back on the pillows. My cock is standing straight up and glistening with Quinn Fabray's saliva and lipgloss all over it. This is fucking HOT.

She uses both hands to balance at the bottom of the bed and stands up. She shyly slides off her bra and then her underwear – She is luminous - her skin is so delicate in the moonlight coming through the window.

"Quinn – you are so beautiful." I start stroking myself because I just can't take it anymore.

She watches me for about a minute and then she crawls up the bed and straddles me. "I need this Noah. I need to be with you."

She slides down on my dick slowly and it is so tight and hot, I almost come right there. I have only gone bareback twice in my life and both times it was with her. She really isn't just another hook up. She is a fantasy for me and I can't believe this is happening.

She starts grinding and I am running my hands across her pregnant belly. Her skin is stretched but beautiful around our daughter. I start thrusting upward and she begins groaning. I remember how instrumental her clit was the last time we were together. I lick my thumb to be sure there is enough moisture and I start rubbing it in circles. Her eyes are closed and she throws her head back. I thrust upward and hold deep within her.

"C'mon Quinn. Move so my dick hits that spot inside of you. I want you to come. I want this for us." I start rubbing harder on her clit and thrust again. She is finally clenching around me and it feels so good. I am about to finish off and she slips backward off my cock. _**What the fuck?**_

She is sitting up on her knees between my thighs and grinning from ear to ear. "Gimme a minute Puck – I want another one and I think you were about to finish up."

Well goddamn!

Quinn slides up beside me and I nibble on her ear as she lies next to me. I start to lick and suck on her much larger tits and rub across her stomach. She starts moaning again, rolls on to her side and props herself up on her hands and knees – doggie style. What have I done to deserve this?

Holy Fuck – she is glistening and wet. Why haven't I tried harder with this girl living under my roof? The next 6 weeks are gonna rock!

She turns back toward me and asks, "Puckerman what are you waiting for – an engraved invitation."

I slam into her and then I think about Beth and back off a little.

"Harder Puck – you can't hurt her, but I will hurt you." Damn this is one demanding woman. I grab her hips and start rocking her back and forth to match my thrusts. She starts moaning "Puck right there, unnn, right there. Again!"

I thrust twice, as hard as I can, and I am too close – she really needs to get off.

"C'mon Quinn – cum for me. Please?" She grunts and her pussy is clenching around my cock.

"Ahhh, Noah!"

I am sure my mom can hear us – but I don't care. The aftershocks of Quinn's orgasm push me over the edge and we collapse spooning naked on the bed.

"Q that was really hot. Thank you!"

"No, thank you Noah – we needed that."

"I know I did. Sleep tight, Baby Momma." I pull covers over her, kiss her temple and we fall asleep.

* * *

I wake up and realize its mid morning. I see Quinn is showered and dressed. I smile broadly at her. Then I see her placing clothes into her suitcase and I feel my heart clenching.

"Fabray, what the fuck?"

Quinn looks at her feet. "I didn't know how to tell you. I am moving in with Mercedes today. I decided a couple of days ago."

I wrap the sheet around me and stand up. "What the hell was last night Q?"

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "Closure, Puck. We needed a night that was about us – not Finn. After what you did for me yesterday, we needed it even more. I don't regret it and I hope you don't either. I'll finish packing after you get dressed."

I watch her leave the room and punch the wall.

_**Well fuck me!**_


End file.
